A Close Shave
December, 2000
Ron may be particularly dense at times, but this was too obvious even for him to dodge.
As he stood, pouting, in front of the bathroom mirror, the auburn scruff running rampant on his face, he turned the package over in his hands and read the description on the back for the hundredth time:
Does you five o'clock shadow crop up at noon like magic?Do you need to use cleansing charms on your face after meals to get those pesky crumbs out from within your stubble?Do your friends transfigure your clothes into a toga and call you Socrates due to your thick, fast-growing beard?
If you answered 'yes' to any or all of the above questions, you need SCRUFF SCOURGIFIER!
Scruff Scourgifier is a Healer-tested formula which keeps your face clear of that pesky stubble for a full month, while keeping your skin clear and your hair follicles healthy.
Plus, Scruff Scourgifier includes an anti-curse mechanism which identifies the miscreant who may be cursing you behind your back. Now all your mischievous friends will complain of excessive hair growth on their backsides!
Listen to your girlfriend. Get rid of your scruff. Use Scruff Scourgifier today!
Cheers, Hermione. Some Christmas present.
Well, he reasoned, it wasn't as though there hadn't been hints…
"Ron… I'm not quite sure how to phrase this, but… you truly should shave."
"Ron… I find it difficult to enjoy kissing you when you've got this prickly monstrosity growing on your face."
"Ronald, until you learn to give keen attention to the state of your face, I absolutelyrefuseto serve you sandwiches with sprouts in them, it isabsolutely atrociousthe way they cling helplessly to that porcupine you somehow attempt to navigate food through…"
And so on, and so forth.
Ron sighed. It wasn't his fault that the hair on his face grew at an alarming rate. Besides, he sort of liked it. It made him feel distinguished. It wasn't causing anyone harm, what's the big deal?
The stubborn side of Ron wanted to let the razor slip into the garbage. His right hand crept over toward the trash and held the gift precariously over the bucket—
"Ron?" Hermione knocked lightly on the bathroom door. "Everything all right?"
His hand jumped reflexively away from the trash. "Yes," he said, somewhat brusquely.
"Are… are you going to try that razor?" Silence. "I mean, It'd just be really nice if—"
Ron sighed. "Yes, Hermione. Just let me alone, will you?"
"All right. There's bangers and mash on the stove, come out when you're ready." And she shuffled away in her slippers and houserobe, humming quietly to herself.
But, as usual, the stubborn side of Ron gave way to the side of Ron who would do a great deal to make Hermione happy (although that was perhaps mostly because since they'd begun living together, he found that an unhappy Hermione often led to an even unhappier Ron trying to sleep on the sofa). He turned the package over again and read the instructions.
Apply Scruff Scourgifier Cream to face. Bring blade up to cheek and simply let go. Blade will hover of its own accord and work itself into a shaving frenzy to give you a clean shave every time, with no nicks or missed spots.
Ron sighed and spread the cream liberally until it covered every area of his face infected by what Hermione had taken to referring to as 'the Crimson Plague'. With a shaky hand, he brought the blade up to about ear-level and let go.
As promised, the blade floated momentarily in place before going quickly to work on Ron's face, flawlessly wiping away both cream and hair with one quick motion. In seconds the job was done. Ron raised his eyebrows impressively and brought out a hand to catch the hovering razor, but it darted expertly out of his grasp and, to Ron's horror, began shaving the rest of the hair off his head in long, sweeping swoops.
Yelping, Ron flailed wildly in an attempt to grab the razor. It seemed to predict his motions, however, and stayed firmly outside of his grasp, finding the opportunity to finish the job of shaving his scalp in between the waving arms. Not aware of his bearings, Ron fell sideways into the bathtub, pulling the curtain down on top of him.
"Ron, what on earth is going on in here?" Hermione asked as she pushed the bathroom door open hurriedly. Large clumps of red hair littered the bathroom floor; the blade lay abandoned amongst them; and a dull moan was emitting from the bathtub. Hermione rushed forward and untangled Ron from the curtain. Suddenly she stopped, stepped back, and gasped. "Ron…" she said slowly. "I hadn't meant for you to shave your entire head."
"It was hardly my intention either," grumbled Ron indignantly as he pushed himself out of the tub. Blushing furiously, he pushed past Hermione and glanced at his perfectly bald head. Immediately he groaned and slid down the wall behind him, hiding his face in his hands while he sat on the floor.
This was a disaster. He was ruined. He could never show his face at work again. His relationship was probably doomed. He may as well just go into hiding now. Become a recluse. Learn how to subsist on berries, though the thought of a meatless diet sent shivers down his back. This was it. He was finished. Hermione—
—was giggling?
Ron raised his head and looked disbelievingly at her. "What in the fresh hell are you laughing about?"
"Oh,Ron," was all she said before her sentence got lost in another fit of giggles.
"This is not helping," he moaned quietly before hiding his head in his arms again. "Just break up with me and be done with it, Hermione, I don't need to be laughed at beforehand."
"Ron. Ron." Hermione was shaking his shoulder now. She seemed to have gained control of herself. "Look up, Ron. Look at me." Slowly, reluctantly, Ron raised his head and met Hermione's now sympathetic eyes. "Why on earth would I break up with you?"
Ron pointed angrily at the mirror. "Do you see me, Hermione? I'm the last person in the entire world who should be bald. I look like… like a baby bird or something."
Hermione pursed her lips and ran a hand along Ron's perfectly smooth face. "So what?" she said quietly.
"So what?" he screeched.
She shrugged. "At least you're a cute, clean-shaven baby bird." She smiled genuinely at him and kissed him softly, hopping to her feet and offering a hand to pull him up. "Now come on. That food is going to get cold."
Somewhat stunned that Hermione still liked him without hair, he took her hand and glanced once more at himself in the mirror as he exited the bathroom, wincing emphatically at his appearance. "I may have to quit my job."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald. It's merely hair. In a month it'll start growing back. I'll charm it to grow faster than usual. You'll live to see another day." Ron sat down in the kitchen as Hermione handed him a plate piled with food. "Er… Ron? Just how much of that cream did you apply?"
Ron shrugged but didn't look up as he dug into his food. "Some. I wanted to make sure it would work."
"Did you, ah… did you read the whole package?"
Ron looked up. "You mean there was writing after the instructions?"
Hermione turned to hide her grin. "Mmm," was all she said, and pointedly changed the subject.
After breakfast, Ron went to help Hermione clean up the bathroom. When Hermione had her back turned, Ron picked up the package and finally located, in extremely tiny print, a disclaimer below the instructions:
Note: The cream provides a range within which the razor will operate. Only a very light layer is required. Overapplication of cream may cause over-stimulation of razor, which may result in undesired areas being shaved.
Struck by a sudden realization, Ron suddenly turned the package over and, as he suspected, located the logo in the top right corner:
Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes